


Chained Up

by celticheart72



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo Card #1 [5]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Captivity, Complete, F/M, No Escape, Trapped, chained to a bed, implied self mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 10:46:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19207792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celticheart72/pseuds/celticheart72
Summary: You and Merle are chained to a bed in a basement and your chances for escape look bleak.For Bad Things Happen Bingo square Chained To A Bed





	Chained Up

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: held prisoner, unable to escape

 

“What the hell’s this shit?!” Merle’s voice was full of piss and vinegar.

You opened your eyes to find yourself sitting on a concrete floor with your back against the metal footboard of a bed. Your hands were pulled up over your left shoulder and handcuffed together with the chain around one of the bedposts. Using your feet, you pushed yourself further up until you could look through the footboard’s rails.

Merle was half sitting up on the bed while he looked around the room. From your vantage point, it looked like there was a leather cuff around his right wrist attached to a long chain which appeared to be connected to the bed somehow.

“Merle?” Your voice sounded like you hadn’t used it in forever and a day.

“Darlin’? Ya alright?” He was jerking at the chains and making the entire bed shake.

“I think so. I feel funny. Throat’s sore.” You tried moving to your knees so you could get a better look around.

“Fuckers drugged us.” Merle moved to sit on the right side of the bed.

He stood up, braced a foot on the bed, and wrapped both hands around the chain attaching him to it. Using his foot to push against the bed he pulled on the chain until the muscles of his arms were straining and the tendons in his neck were standing out. His face was red and he was grunting with the effort.

Tears streamed down your face as the reality of your situation started to set it. All you could remember was being on a supply run with Merle and then nothing until you woke up here. Resting your forehead against the metal railing you took a deep breath.

“Maybe Daryl will find us.”

Merle grunted again before the bed jerked and smacked you in the forehead. “We’re fuckin’ on our own here, darlin’. Stop wishin’ fer shit that ain’t gonna happen.”

Lifting your head, you glared at him. “Damnit Merle, I’m not wishing for anything! I’m trying not to fucking panic!!”

He stopped yanking on the chain and pointed with his left hand to something behind you. “Can ya reach that with yer foot?”

When you looked over your shoulder you couldn’t see what he was talking about but dipping your head to look behind you revealed what looked like a toolbox sitting under a laundry tub. You stretched your leg back and hooked your foot around it to bring it forward and slide it toward Merle.

He started pulling things out of the box and tossing them on the bed. A hammer, a flathead screwdriver, what appeared to be a socket wrench, a spool of wire, and a hacksaw.

Merle sighed and looked at you. “Ain’t much to work with.”

You listened for the sounds of anyone in the house above you while he used the wire and screwdriver to try to pick the lock on the cuff. When that didn’t work, he started hammering at links on the chain. That didn’t work either.

All that was left to try was the hacksaw.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work kudos are appreciated. If you love it comments are wonderful. If you have constructive criticism or questions let's talk. If you leave blatantly rude or negative comments, know that no hate is allowed here and will be deleted. And if you read my work and are too shy to interact right now, know that's okay too.


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